by MS. Sammie

My ex-fiancee called Monday evening to ask whether, he could come by to see me after two years.

"I know this is unexpected, Precious, but I'm going to be in the neighborhood. I really would like to stop by."

Of course I agreed. It had been two years and I was involved with someone else. I didn't see how it would hurt.

A couple of hours later Troy Adams arrived at my door, looking handsome as ever. The years had been good to him.

I watched him, my eyes traveling over him from head to toe. His features were still flawless, chiseled, he now wore his hair cut short to his head, his skin a smooth dark bronze, height at six feet, his athletic build was lean, yet muscular.

It wasn't just his looks that had attracted me to Troy. He exuded a virility that was all male. While he stood in front of me, I couldn't help but feel the effect of my former love.

I barely had time to take in seeing him when he reached out, grabbing me in his muscular arms, and crushed me against his strong chest. The warmth of his chest burned into my breast and seared throughout my entire body. Two years and he could still cause every cell in my body to respond. I inhaled his masculine scent, which held a trace of cologne, that mixed with his own male essence. I caught myself and stepped back quickly. "Come in," I suggested. "What brings you here?"

"Ebony moved ten minutes from here. I took a chance that you still lived here." Ebony was his younger sister. When we were dating, Ebony and I got along beautifully.

He took a seat on the sofa and crossed his long legs. "I just wanted to see how you were. We haven't seen or spoken to each other since we parted."

"I'm glad. It's really good to see you."

"It's good to see you too. So how have you been?" He asked. "You're still as beautiful as I remember."

I blushed. Troy was always good with words. "Thank you. I see the years have been good to you." I took a seat across from him. "Are you still with the police department?"

Troy was a Detective with the Narcotics Division for the Washington, D.C., Police Department. He was obsessed with bringing down Drago, a major Drug Lord. During the course of the undercover investigation he was shot. Drago was acquitted. The verdict put a strain on our relationship and our engagement ended.

We sat and reminisced for hours before he announced that he'd better get going before he wore out his welcome. I walked him to the door, gave him a hug, and a kiss on the cheek. As he was about to open the door, there was a knock from the other side. Troy opened it and came face to face with my boyfriend, Mitchell Stephens, the Defense Attorney who helped Drago get off on a technicality.

Troy introduced himself; Mitchell was pleasant, they exchanged a few friendly words and he left.

"What was he doing here?" Mitchell demanded to know.

"He was in the neighborhood, visiting his sister, and dropped by to say hello." I turned and headed into the living room.

Mitchell followed me. "And you believed him?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

"It's just strange that he would show up out of the blue like that."

"Mitchell, the visit was friendly and platonic."

"How can that be?" His tone was serious. "You were engaged."

I looked at Mitchell's worried expression. Our relationship was in a rut. I figured he felt Troy's sudden appearance was a threat to him.

He took me by the hand and led me over to the sofa. "I'm sorry; sweetheart, it's been a long and frustrating day. I'm just a little tired. If you say that his visit was friendly, then it was friendly."

"It was." I assured him. "Do you want to talk about your day?"

"No. I don't want to talk at all," he whispered in my ear.

I met Mitchell Stephens a year after Troy and I broke up; Lorna, a co-worker formally introduced us. At thirty-five he was handsome, honest, intelligent, he had his eyes on a future in politics. He was successful. I plan to be right by his side when he gets there.

I looked at him and the meaning of his gaze was obvious. It had been several weeks since we'd made love. The idea sent my spirits soaring. He carried me into the bedroom and carefully laid me down into the middle of the bed. For the moment, Troy, and the Simone Harrell was shut out.

A week after Troy's unexpected visit, I worked a twelve-hour shift at the hospital. Though I was tired, the intimacy in our relationship was back on track, and I was looking forward to spending another quiet evening with Mitchell. I knew there wasn't any food in the pantry and on the way home, I stopped at the supermarket to buy groceries.

I decided to prepare spaghetti with my own home made sauce. After the meal was prepared, I quickly showered, dressed, and waited for Mitchell's arrival. Thirty minutes later, he phoned to inform me, he was working late, and could not make it. The Harrell case was going to trial in a couple of weeks. He wanted to be prepared.

I was having dinner in front of the television when the doorbell rang. I opened the door to find Troy on my doorstep. "This is a pleasant surprise," I said, stepping aside to let him pass. "To what do I owe this visit? Ebony?"

"She wasn't home." He smiled that magnificent smile of his. "I hope you don't mind."

I had to admit that I was pleased to see him again. Was it because I still had feelings for him? Or was it because I was lonely for company? Troy commented on how good the food smelled, so I invited him to dinner

Watching Troy attack his food, I remembered how much he enjoyed my cooking. I remembered after a hard day at work; I would have dinner waiting for him and when he could he would have dinner waiting for me.

After Troy finished eating, he thanked me for the meal, saying how much he missed my cooking. Then as he was about to leave, I asked him to stay. We sat watching the movie "XXX," starring Vin Diesel. The scene reminded me of times when we used to cuddle up on the sofa with a large bowl of popcorn.

When the movie was over, Troy asked me. "How well do you know Mitchell?"

"We've been together a year. I think I know him very well."

He shook his head disapprovingly. "That doesn't mean you know everything about him."

I looked at my former fiance. I know enough. Why are you asking?"

He stood to his feet. "Just wanted to know."

Without another word he walked out the door. As I watched the door, quietly close behind him, I was determined not to read into the question. Maybe, he was still in love with me and he was jealous, I said to myself. He can't accept the fact that I'm with someone else. Nevertheless, while I was tossing the thought around in my head, I know Troy and he'd never ask without a reason behind it.

When the trial began, I saw even less of Mitchell. One evening, I sat at home alone and bored. The ringing of the telephone broke through the silence.

"Would you like to go to a movie?" Troy's voice came across the line.

I had not seen or heard from Troy since the night he walked out, but I had thought of him often. I know I should have said no, but what could it hurt?

At the movie, we stopped in the lobby. Troy ordered two bags of popcorn with lots of butter. "That is fattening," I protested.

"That's something you don't have to worry about. There is nothing wrong with your figure." His eyes raked boldly over me. My heart fluttered wildly in my breast.

Troy handed me a bag of popcorn, taking my hand in his. I should have tried to retrieve it, but deep down I realized that I wanted him to hold it. He must have known I wanted him too, because he held it throughout the movie.

After that date, going out with Troy became a ritual. I found myself looking forward to being with again.

One weekend, Mitchell went out of town. I invited Troy over for dinner. After dinner, he leaned back in the chair watching me. "Precious dinner was delicious."

"Thank you. I'm sure you remember, the kitchen is not the only place that I'm good in." I couldn't believe that I let those words escape my lips. Even though, Troy and I had been seeing each other, he'd been a perfect gentleman.

He pushed himself from the table and stood in front of me." I remember very well, how compatible we were in the bedroom."

His finger curved under my chin, looking me in the face. "What about Mitchell? I don't want us to do this based on old memories. Because when we get together it's all or nothing, Precious. There is no turning back this time."

I dropped my eyes from his. I knew he was right.

He must have known I was uncertain, because he said. "I want you to think about it. Call me later."

The following week, Mitchell informed me he was going out of town for the weekend. I invited Troy to spend the night.

"Are you sure you want to do this? Troy asked. "I told you my condition."

"I know what you told me. I want to see you."

"What about my job? I will always be in law enforcement. It's who I am."

I moved toward him, mockingly coy, and ran my finger along his jaw." I accept you, Troy, job and all."

I drew his face to mine and felt his knees weakened as his mouth descended, parting my lips, I raised myself to meet his kiss. This was right, I thought to myself. This is the way I remember passion to be.

With the swiftness of a cat, Troy swept me up, cradling me in his arms, and carried me into the bedroom. He lowered me to the bed and began to undress me, as he kissed every part of my body, and sexual familiarization of being with him spun, and careened on its axis.

The next morning, I slid out of bed and headed for the kitchen. At this point, I knew things were over between Mitchell and me. I began to think of ways to tell him.

I was reaching for the refrigerator when the doorbell rang. It was Mitchell. He rushed past me into the apartment.

"Where is he?" He screamed, looking around the room.


"You know who." He grabbed my arm.

"Troy?" Why was he asking about Troy and how did he know he was here? "Were you spying on me?"

"Never mind that. Do you know what you've done?"

I pulled away from Mitchell and took a good look at him. There was something in his eyes, his voice that sent a cold shiver up and down my spine. "What have I done, Mitchell?"

He ignored my question.

"Troy and I are getting back together." I found myself saying.

He gave me a long hard look. "Just how are you going to do that if he's dead?"

I stood there, immobile and knew I was hearing him wrong, I said to myself. He didn't just say he was going to kill him. A shudder crept through me. Maybe, he's already dead. Was he going to kill me too?

"I want you to go put some clothes on. We're going to take a little trip."

When I didn't move, he began, pushing me toward the bedroom. "I said go put some clothes on!"

"Where is Troy?" I shouted.

"Your boyfriend is still alive, for now," he emphasized.

I closed my eyes and said a silent prayer. He's still alive. I prayed that God to keep him safe. If anything happened to him because of me, I know how I could live with myself.

After I dressed, Mitchell stuffed me in the car. As we rode in silence, I looked over at the man I thought I fell in love with, wanted to marry, and have his children.

Twenty minutes later, he sped through the industrial side of town, and headed down a series of side streets, and finally parked in front of what looked like an abandon warehouse.

My heart dropped in my stomach; I looked over at the building, then over at Michael. I knew it was a stupid question, but I asked anyway. "What are we doing here?"

"You'll see soon enough," he said, as he came around and opened my door. "Get out!" He commanded.

"When I didn't move, he let out a very loud expletive, then pulled me out of the vehicle. "I'm very disappointed in you," he said, shaking his head. "Don't you know he was just seeing you to get to me?"

"Seeing you. Get to you." I screeched. "What are you talking about?"

"He's investigating me, my dear."

I felt like the ground just opened and swallowed me whole. "Investigating you? For what? What does that have to do with me?"

Mitchell threw his head back and laughed. "You were the bait."

I didn't want to believe it, yet Troy did show up out of the blue after two years and he did question me about Mitchell. I felt like such a fool, because I really believed he was interested in me, again. Maybe he was using me to get to Mitchell.

"Wait a minute." The wheels in my head began to turn. "Troy is in Narcotics," the word stuck in my throat. As I looked at Mitchell, I didn't like the look I saw in his eyes. How could a man like Mitchell, a prominent and respected Attorney be involved in drugs? He put drug dealers behind bars.

"That's right, he's after me and a man named Drago."

"Drago?" I know that name, I repeated, trying to recall where I heard it. Then it hit me: Drago was a major drug dealer whose case came to trial six months ago, but was dismissed because of lack of evidence. Mitchell was the prosecuting attorney on that case. Now it all made sense. Mitchell was on the take.

"How did you get him off?" I held my hand up in silence. I decided that I didn't want to know. Just as I was about to ask another question, I heard the door open, the man who was the subject of our conversation, walked through the door.

Drago looked as he did each day of his court appearance, like he stepped off the pages of GQ magazines. He had a beautiful, brown olive complexion, and looked to be somewhere between forty and forty-five. His face unlined, surrounded with hair black as coal that hung down his back in a long ponytail.

I shifted uncomfortably as he stared at me with a pair of deep-set dark eyes. I began to shiver in spite of the warm weather. His gaze magnetic. I struggled to free myself from his line of vision.

Drago moved closer to me. "So you're Precious?" The name fits. I can see why Mitchell and Troy both fell in love with you."

"What are you going to do with me?"

He ignored my question. "Your friend Mr. Adams has cost me a lot of money and merchandise, I thought I had gotten rid of him two years ago, but he didn't die."

The alarm sounded in my head. "You shot him?"

"No. I didn't have that pleasure." Drago broke my stare, looking over at Mitchell, then back to me.

"Mitchell?" I asked in disbelief and watched a slow smile cross his face. "You shot Troy?"

"It was him or me," he answered with a smirk on his face.

"I've placed a phone call to him, instructing him to meet us at the abandoned Dixon Hangar." Drago explained. "With you as bait," he looked me up and down. "I'm sure he will show up. When he does, I will finish the job, I started two years ago. Bring her!" He ordered Mitchell.

A million thoughts ran through my mind and my head began to pound like a jackhammer. I was placed in the front seat of the car, between the man who tried to kill Troy, and the man who was going to kill him. As we drove toward the hangar, I hoped Troy wouldn't show up, but I knew he would. I had to think of a plan.

A few minutes later, I spotted the blue lights in the rearview mirror coming toward us. The sound of the helicopter could be heard overhead. Mitchell quickly swerved, missing the oncoming car and sped up.

When the police car skillfully turned around to follow us. I managed to swing, hitting Mitchell up aside the head. Drago was quick and within seconds he was on me, repeating blow after blow. I fought him off as best I could, but I was at a size disadvantage.

Moments later, I recognized Troy's voice through the police bullhorn. "Pull the car over! You're surrounded."

"Troy!" I screamed as the car again sped up. I know he couldn't hear me, but knowing he was close made me feel safer.

I looked up to see that we had drove into a roadblock. There was no place to go. I watched one cop jump out of the patrol car, quickly joined the other cops, squatting behind the car for protection.

Within seconds, the car doors swung open, and guns were drawn. "Get out of the car, with your hands up!" Troy commanded.

I watched as the police officers quickly pulled Drago and Mitchell from the car, placed them both face down on the pavement, and slapped handcuffs on their wrists.

I slumped down in the front seat of the car. The knot in my stomach began to relax. Never in my life had I imagined anything like this would happen to me. It was out of revenge. I experienced first hand what Troy's job was all about. I not only accepted his career choice, but I respected it.

After they handcuffed Mitchell and Drago, read them their rights, and placed in the back seat of the patrol car. Troy came, pulled me from the car, and threw his arms around me.

"It's over," he said, whispering into my hair. "You're safe now. They can't hurt you."

"I'm sorry," I said, shaking."

"Hey. Hey." Troy touched my lips gently with his finger, stopping any further words. "There is no need for you to apologize. I am the one who should be apologizing. I am sorry that I had to take drastic actions to catch those two."

"I'm glad you caught them and later we can discuss how you're going to make it up to me."

He smiled that smile of his. "Now that's the kind of police work I like. You know I do my best work undercover."

I leaned my head on his shoulder, as he escorted me to the police cruiser. "I love you, Troy."

"I love you too, Precious."

Bait by MS. Sammie

© Copyright 2002. All rights reserved. No portion of this work may be duplicated or copied without the expressed written consent of the author.

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